Human nature
by Little green
Summary: A weird one shot. In a world where the war never ceased, what could be Trowa's last wish, and can Quatre realize it? Can he lie?AU 3x4, 4x... Warnings : Lime, yaoi and non-yaoi


Hiya! I finished this one shot before my stava, because it was so much easier to write! (Plus the fact that I was listening to "Human nature", by sweet drop, so I was in the mood! :) Midii, sorry for being late, as usual. (But it will, at least be ready for the new Q factor page!)  
  
Moleman - She's stupid.  
  
Lg - :P :P  


Warnings : Lime, AU - Endless Waltz never happened, and the war is not over, nobody won. (Plot convenience, to make things a little bit more gloomy!)   
  
Seriously, you know what : GW is not mine!! Now, on the story.  
  
  
  
  
**Human Nature  
**  
  
  
Trowa sat up abruptly, tangled in the sheets he and his lover shared. For a split second, he had felt it, exactly the way Wufei described it : something icy and sinister, slow and stuffing, his own upcoming death, an unique sensation. Almost immediatly, his mind registered that, if it had hit him so strongly, Quatre must had felt it too. He silently cursed himself for his stupidity, and a deep frown appeared on his features as he heard the sound of rumpled sheets, and felt a warm and fuzzy crown of hair brushing his side. Damn him. He truly felt everything, nothing to hide. He looked down, in the cerulean eyes that had slowly opened, and were now staring at him expectantly.  
  
"I..."  
  
"I know."  
  
"And..." Trowa whispered, fearing his own voice.  
  
"I know you're ready. And if that's what you're wondering, I'm ready too." The blonde said quietly, no trace of pain in his voice.  
  
"You don't care."  
  
"You're wrong. But would it feel better if I cried my heart out?"  
  
"No. Do me favor a, then." Trowa asked suddenly, gazing at his angel with unreadable eyes.  
  
"Anything, for you..." Quatre sighed tiredly.  
  
"Quatre, have you ever lied?" He began, holding the other boy gently, his fingers roaming on his smooth back.  
  
"I- Of course, like anybody." He replied, his eyes now wide with curiosity.  
  
"No, I mean a real lie, one that would last until your death comes, one that you would make real, and never betray." Trowa explained, squeezing lightly a creamy shoulder.  
  
"I'm not sure I could do that, Trowa." The young blonde murmured brokenly.  
  
"Not even if it made things right?" The taller youth insisted.  
  
"How far, Trowa?" Quatre said quietly, embracing his lover tenderly.  
  
"Would you promise me to lie?"  
  
"... Yes."  
  
Trowa didn't answer, for his eyes said everything that needed to be said, he merely pinned expertly the supple body behind him, devouring it with his eyes. His friend, lover and only confidant didn't talk either, choosing to live their last hours together as intensely as possible. Soon the night let its dark veil fall over them, becoming the only witness of the languid sighs that became moans of pleasure, before dying in the summer breeze.  
  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
Quatre clenched his teeth and found himself unusually calm as he watched Heavyarms collapse against a building, half-pulverized by a powerful beam cannon. He found the tears didn't come, only his logic, his sense of strategy. Quatre the Gundam pilot chose to let Trowa where he was, for he didn't risk anything worse, in his current state.  
  
He caught a glimpse of Deathscythe and Shenlong, slicing their way out of this hell. After a few tense minutes, the intense silence told him it was over, that they had won. He stopped his mobile suit and, the second his feet touched the ground, he realized he wasn't as ready as he had thought. His whole body ached in a way he knew too well, the way it had when his father's satellite had ceased being. He ran faster than he knew possible, knowing he would always be too late.  
  
And he was.  
  
He didn't even had the time to scream. A trembling and bloody hand grasped weakly his neck. His vision was blurred with tears, and he thought it was true Trowa never wasted words, for when the silencer's last breath died in ear, everything had been said.  
  
"W... Will you lie?"  
  
"Yes Trowa. I swear I will."  
  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
_He watched her climb on his mobile suit calmly. He wasn't in a hurry, he knew it was her, for certain, and with Sally and Rasheed's help, she wasn't going anywhere. He waited a little more. Was she comfortable, there? She had no manners, from the looks of it..._  
  
"Does the lady imagine that I'm going to offer her a ride?"  
  
Midii almost fell of her perch as she heard the amused voice behind her. She turned to face the stranger, ready to defend herself, to run, to scream or whatever would be needed. She was surprised to find a boy about her age, maybe a little bit older, she assessed. She was momentarily relieved by the thought that he seemed quite harmless.   
She stared at him for long minutes, trying to determine wether or not this boy could be the pilot of the monster she was sitting on. The first thing she noticed was that he wore completely old-fashioned pilot goggles, which puzzled her, then she saw the scars on his forearms -the rest of them being hidden by a pale shirt- and his right cheek. His eyes, hidden between unruly golden bangs, seemed sincere and his features relaxed, but she could feel a twinge of sadness she couldn't place. She continued her examination, filing facts, as usual : slender built, Sinewy muscles : trained, obviously. Slightly tanned, dirty -Eeew!-, no uniform : mercenary, for sure.  
  
She considered him warily, unaware that her silence made her look totally stupid. His bemused expression turned to a full smile as he approached, causing her to tense, ready to leap like a rabbit.  
  
"Sprechen Sie Deutsch? Parlo Italiano? Speak english? Parler Français? Habla español?"  
  
"..."  
  
"So... Either you don't speak any of these languages, either you're some kind of autistic gerbil." The boy stated, stroking his chin while eyeing her with piercing eyes.  
  
"I... I'm not an autistic gerbil!!" Midii exploded, before covering her mouth with her hands, aware that she had slipped.  
  
"Ah. Here we are." He replied happily.  
  
"Then if you're not a gerbil, which we'll determine later, you certainly have a name." He asked, his eyes questionning and unnerving at the same time, she thought.  
  
"It's... Flavie. Flavie Berthes." She replied calmly, inwardly congratulating herself for being such an amazing liar.  
  
"False."  
  
She gritted her teeth and stared at him at his statement, her eyes wide.  
  
"Might as well tell you now, I have a certain talent at 'making personnalities out', if one can say so. You're lying, and I'm loosing patience." He said smugly yet sternly.  
  
"Fine." She growled, "It's Midii Une."  
  
"Well, now I can ask you why you tried to lie to me, right?" He went on, sitting on the giant's left arm, seemingly undisturbed by the monstruous blade hanging over his blonde head.  
  
"I..."  
  
"Didn't trust me. I got that, thank you." He finished.  
  
She glared at him. That guy was a sheer headache.  
  
"Are you some kind of psychic freak?" Midii muttered, trying to back away discreetly.  
  
He gazed at her with eyes that clearly said '_I know something you don't._'   
  
"I..." He began, choosing his words carefully, "I don't know who you are or what you've done, but I think you should follow me. This place is less than safe, and I might need some female labour." He added, grinning.  
  
He dodged skillfully the stone that was thrown to him in a gesture of classical feminine rage, smiling.  
  
"I'm not following you, and I'm not working for anybody!!!" Midii shouted.  
  
"Not even for the Alliance?" The blonde boy smirked with a strange sparkling in his eyes.  
  
Midii felt the blood being drained from her face at his words. "Are you going to kill me?"  
  
"No. I find it quite useful to have cheap and expendable spies up my sleeve." The boy replied, apparantly planning on making the monster move.  
  
Her cheeks turned to a bright red, from anger and shame. Never in her life had she been adressed like this, not even by her employers. It was the first time that somebody dare to reduce her to what she was, nothing more, nothing less. How could he know so much? Maybe he was reading everything in her mind, maybe he was reading was she was thinking at that precise moment. From the satisfied smile he wore, she could tell he did. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
Midii never knew how long the "ride" had lasted, for she had eventually fallen asleep. She discovered that the boy and his strange mobile suit had taken a plane, and so had she. She remembered vividly, and with the same mixture of anger and shame, when he had refused to let her in the cockpit, and had unceremoniously dropped her on the giant's shoulder.  
  
Now, she found herself in the middle of nowhere, to be precise. She could tell they were in a desert, but, which one? Little education she had received allowed her to think that all those men wearing red hats were some kind of Arabs, but it didn't give her much indication on the place's location.  
She noticed the boy, whose name she still didn't know, she thought, chatting happily with an equally weird braided boy, about his age, dressed like a priest, and wearing the most incredibly girlish braid she had ever laid her eyes on. The blonde boy glanced at her, and she guessed he was talking about her . He made a vague gesture in her direction to a tall man, with a dark skin and ridiculous little sunglasses. The man pushed her toward a door in a quite ancient great wall. Inside... was a city. You couldn't guessed, in such a sad place, but there was actually life, and animation. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
A few months passed, and she learned some information on her "prison", but she found herself not having the strength to risk everything again and try to escape. The first thing she discovered, after a few conversations with her co-workers, was that she was in the "Maguanacs land", home of the "Maguanacs corp" -which made a lot of Maguanacs in there-, then she learned that the arrogant and heartless individual who had brought her here was constantlty referred as "Master Quatre", and that he was the boss, indeed. What surprised her the most, was the complete adoration she witnessed towards "Master Quatre". Did they know he was psychic prick? That he had kidnapped her, made her work in the kitchen and forgotten her there??   
Fortunatly, at least, he wasn't a demanding master : he was gone most of the time, fighting with those Maguanacs, somewhere in the world. Rebels... Always structuring their societies like barbarians...  
  
However, despite the fact that she did not belong to "Master Quatre"'s fanclub, she was curious. She had to admit she wanted to know more about him, about that strange braided priest and those rebels the Alliance, and later OZ had hated so much.  
  
She had slowly resigned herself to this half-slavery, when, one day, Khadidja burst into the kitchen, squealing like a child.  
  
Khadidja was the eldest sister of a family that counted nine members, and being a naturally sociable gossip, she had been the first to take care of Midii, asking questions all the time, but providing a welcomed support.  
  
"Guess what! You've been promoted! Now you'll do the cleaning in the chambers with me!" She had chirped.  
  
Midii's first reaction had been to smirk. Such a promotion... Then it had clicked. The chambers. Full-time access to anybody's private life. A spy's dream. Now she understood what made her friend so giddy. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
The first time she finally managed to be in charge of the master's room was like a visit to Lunapark, to Midii. The others were busy, he had been gone for days, and now she was there. Hours on end to rummage around -discreetly, of course-. She giggled evilly and rubbed her hands together, unable to decide where to begin. She eventually decided herself for the study, because she wasn't very interested in anything more personnal. Something nagged at her mind though, and she knew that she might pay dearly what she was going to do. She dusted hastily a few objects, before tiptoeing into the forbidden room, closing the door carefully behing herself.   
She was amazed at the mountain of papers on his desk, all covered in notes in the same small and meticulous writing that she assessed was his. She found several maps that she didn't even look at - War had ceased to interest her long ago, she would die some day anyway-, but also old dossiers. She read some and after having read "Winner" on almost all the files, she just knew it. There wasn't any kind of "real" proof, but she was suddenly certain that the heir that had been reported lost in AC195 lived here, under the same roof as she did. She found more papers, more files, until there wasn't any doubt, and she felt like slapping herself for having been so stupid. It had been obvious right from the start! How many "Master Quatre"s are there in the galaxy, for God's sake?!  
  
Did it matter that much, anyway? She would never leave this place to tell anyone.  
  
Something else caught her attention : Pictures, on one of them, she could see that braided boy, with another one, quite sulky, she thought. Then her heart skipped a beat. On a picture that seemed to have been taken when he was younger, she saw him, sitting near... Nanashi. She was certain it was him. You can't forget such eyes, such hair. They seemed happy, even Nanashi, who had never been much of a live wire. She felt her heart crumble in billions of pieces. What did it mean? No wonder that monster knew so much about her... She decided to wait for him. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
She came back every day, learning more and more, until the rumors spread in the city tha the Maguanacs and their beloved master were back. She waited in the shadows, like she had learned long ago. She watched him enter his room tiredly, throw his clothes hapazardly on the ground, she waited until she heard the sound of his body plunging in the warm bath she had been ordered to prepare. She noticed a clicking sound and assessed that he was playing with his goggles; a quick peer at the tiled hammam proved her right. Now she would have answers. She took the small golden letter opener that had been left on his desk and padded along the bed, entering the steam filled room where she could make out his head, leaning against the oriental tiling.  
  
"I take it you found everything I wanted you to find." His voice resounded.  
  
She stood petrified. How could he?  
  
"Trowa wanted me to lie. To pretend it was only destiny and never tell you." He went on.  
  
"Pretend what?!! Never tell what?!" She shouted, the tears already starting to roll on her pale cheeks.   
  
She barely have the time to gasp when a warm and wet hand caught her wrist in a painful grip, forcing her to drop the letter opener. Her tears... She had been a crybaby, and that had let him the time to move.  
  
"I found you, I protected you, I gave you the lesson you deserved for your past actions, I observed you all the time and I put you back on the right path, or so I thought." He said coldly, his voice very different from the mocking tone she had once heard.  
  
"And?" she whimpered, the will to fight or understand gone.  
  
"The second part of my promise was to never let you know about it."   
  
"But I know..." She began.  
  
"No you don't. The third part was to make you happy." He finished.  
  
The conversation was cut short by a desperate kiss which made her think that there was a little bit of nanashi left in both of them. That was also the first time she noticed his state of undress and her mind registered a short moment of embarassment. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
  
Quatre gazed at the pale and delicate form tangled in his sheets. They just needed time. Time and peace would make everything right, he thought, playing with a strawberry blond lock and letting his fingers wander over the feminine curves they had discovered.  
  
"_Trowa... I told you I couldn't lie so much..._"  
  
  
  
  



End file.
